Tiny drops can fill up a whole tub.
A few nights ago I was cleaning out my drawers and I came upon our old log book. I read through the first few pages and ended up getting a headache. Oh, how youth can be so embarrassing! It was full of pages after pages of promises of undying affection and you-and-me-against-the-world drama. And now, do I actually believe in that crap? Against his short letters, though, my compositions were really fit for a drama queen like me. His, well, as in the manner of what the guys would always do, just say sorry – almost all the time.
So we go about and go on with our lives.
Bits of memories can fill up the whole picture frame.
When I said it was over, I know I wasn’t pretending. It really was. Thank you, but I had rather flown to Cebu, except only dad had to tell me off. Nasa Manila ka na nga, pupunta ka pa nang probinsya. Well, he did have a point there. Eh sa nangangarap ako maging independent, bakit ba?! Well, I guess, this one is for the birds. So, on with my suburban chick life…
For those of you who are clueless, being on a lonely journey from quarter-life to mid-life, and the crises in between, time goes too fast when you are busy and too slow when you’re a nervous wreck. Of course, aside from time, there are other things on this earth that hardly cooperates with you. So you look for excuses and you turn to those sordid, in search for the meaning of life and the key to happiness. Syempre, out of order pareho. And then you get older and you realize that the treasure hunt is a fairy tale. It’s faery dust trail and not streetlights. Oh, okay, nice going, you say to yourself.
when you turn the faucet on, you fill up the tub, this time, faster.
when you remember, memories do flood you. remembering is optional. but options always have results. the negative and the positive.
I loathe your youth; I resent your candy-coated lies, because you can never be faithful to your words as I have thought I could be. I detest your naiveté, and I am appalled by your sweet smiles, your pretentious innocence. When you tire of your conquest, I will laugh at your faces and I will hold my head up high, and say, “I told you so!”
And so how a half-wit can occupy your thoughts…
In every hour I spend in the bathroom, I use the thirty minutes to reflect, sometimes to cry in the shower, or in trying to remember things of the past. Being reminded of a book that I had suffered once with baby lust, I spent today’s bath time trying to think about coffee.
When you go to Starbucks the next time, remember these:
1. A grande vanilla frappucino with an espresso shot and caramel drizzle – this you drink if you don’t really need the caffeine or if you feel drinking something lighter than brown.
2. A grande double espresso frappucino, with vanilla syrup, blended with the whipped cream – you should be ready for the caffeine, but thank the heavens that vanilla syrup was invented. Still, quite amateur because it’s cold.
3. A grande Americano with Irish cream syrup (plus free half and half from the condiments section) – really boring, but cheap.
4. A caramel ice-shaken double shot espresso, on a bigger cup, please, with the ice (then explain that you like it really cold, but you actually do this to get more coffee because they actually put the excess in your bigger cup) – my current drive home partner. Caffeine to the max.
5. Go grande with your frap or iced drinks, it’s the most sensible choice. Right size, you won’t waste any, and right price. But still, I have to admit, they are overpriced.
Your cards read happy misery.
When in a reading, you have to know that you must not ask questions that can confuse you like, is the future bright? or will it have a happy ending? when you really don't want it to happen. because your denial stage can only backfire on you and then you start to think, whatever happened to the period that could have gotten away? and so you rewrite your story. this time however, your plot had been blown by the wind. so you try to salvage whatever you can and you put the pieces back together. unfortunately, you do not succeed and you have to do it all over again.
the chronological order has gotten away. so let's settle with the spatial. you look from left to right, from top to bottom, and you look again, and you sneeze. and when you do, you have to close your eyes, for no one sneezes with their eyes wide open. and in that split-second, when you look again, your dog has eaten your homework and you again try to write your fiction.
and everytime i open my eyes in the dark, i pray that i would see you. but it is too dark and thus you will be lost forever.
“Twinkle twinkle little bat
How I wonder what your at.
Up above the world you fly,
Like a tea tray in the sky.”
-excerpt from the “Unbirthday Song” as sung by the Dor Mouse. That’s Alice in Wonderland for you.
and now, everything is fiction indeed.